


The One

by TheLostSister



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Found Families, Hopper being a dad, Hopper/Byers Family fluff, Jopper, Joyce Byers best mom, alt season 3, domestic jopper
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:47:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25679110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLostSister/pseuds/TheLostSister
Summary: Alternative end of/post season 3Hopper makes it out of the mall alive. Joyce offers Hopper and El a place to stay while the cabin is being fixed up.
Relationships: Eleven | Jane Hopper & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers & Jim "Chief" Hopper, Joyce Byers/Jim "Chief" Hopper
Comments: 51
Kudos: 127





	1. A Whole Family

Hopper walks around the corner and catches the two people he needs to see the most sitting together on the back of an ambulance. El is sitting directly on Joyce’s lap, her head curled up against Joyce's neck.

Thank god. She’s okay _. They’re okay._

Only Joyce is crying and she looks…well, not very good. It’s obvious even from a distance.

Shit.

Something’s happened.

Hopper makes his way towards them, his eyes scanning all the faces present in the parking lot. El, Will, Jonathan, Nancy, Mike, all accounted for.

Joyce’s eyes meet his, and she squints in a sort of confusion. She’s shaking her head slowly, and Hopper can’t make sense of it. Joyce must say something because El picks her head up and turns around at the same time everyone else does.

El’s face is just as unreadable. She stands up and starts walking towards him, slowly at first, then in an all-out run, at least as fast as her injured leg can allow.

Hopper lifts his hands up to stop her. He can tell it’s causing her pain, but she keeps running so he picks up his pace to meet her in the middle of the parking lot. She collapses against him and he wraps his arms around her to hold her up.

El is sobbing. Hard.

Harder than he’s ever heard in fact, and that’s saying something because he’s seen her through some pretty awful stuff.

He’s trying to search her face for some sign of what’s going on, but she won’t unlatch her arms from around him, so he just holds her tighter.

When he looks up, there’s a small crowd that’s gathered around them. Joyce is looking at him like she’s about to fall apart. And to be quite honest, it takes a hell of a lot for Joyce Byers to fall apart these days. Despite what some people think, she is the strongest woman he’s ever met. Well, aside from the kid wrapped in his arms.

“What’s wrong? What happened?” Hop finally asks, addressing Joyce specifically. He doesn’t want El to worry even more so he tries to keep the concern out of his soft tone.

Joyce just shakes her head and touches his arm as if to check that it’s really him.

“I-“ She takes a huge breath and tries again. “Jim, we thought you were-“

She can’t finish the sentence, but she doesn’t need to.

It suddenly clicks.

They thought he was dead.

“Oh.”

He feels like he needs to apologize, but no words are coming out. How do you tell the people you care about more than anything in the world that you are sorry for something like _this_.

El is murmuring something against his chest, but he can’t quite make it out.

“What is it?” He gently pulls her away so he can hear her.

She looks up at him and sniffles. “I love you. Don’t go away again because I love you. I love you.” Even though she’s hiccupping for air, she keeps repeating those words over and over. Words she’s never told him before. Words she’s never told _anyone_ before.

“I-“ He has to take a breath because suddenly he’s a little choked up too. “I love you too, kid… I love you too.” El is nearly hyperventilating. “Shh, El. It’s okay, it’s okay,” Hopper repeats. He strokes her back gently encouraging her to slow down her breathing. Finally, she settles down just a bit, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “I’m so sorry,” he whispers uselessly. It’s not enough. 

Hopper feels another hand on his shoulder, and he looks up.

“Good to see you, Jim,” Murray nods sincerely.

“Uh yeah, yeah,” Hop answers back in thanks. This is all so strange, almost dreamlike.

Eventually the crowd around them disperses, though Joyce stays right next to him. She hasn’t said much but she also hasn’t taken her eyes off him. As if she did, he may disappear again.

“Are you okay?” Joyce finally asks. Her hands are shaking as they lightly graze one of the wounds on his face.

Hop takes a breath to calm himself down too. “I guess I’m doing okay coming back from the dead and all,” he attempts to joke for her sake though she doesn’t laugh. He _hates_ that concerned look on her face as she continues worriedly examining his injuries.

“Can you just please get checked out?” she urges quietly.

It’s not so much a request as it is an order; she saw the damage that man did to him down there. The EMTs suspect that she’s got at least two fractured ribs of her own just from one little shove. Joyce doesn’t even want to think about what sort of shades of blue and purple are hiding on his skin under his clothes. As if his injuries from a few days ago weren’t enough already…

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Yeah, sure.” He pulls El back just a little and notices that her head and leg are bleeding through their bandages. “We’ll get all put back together with each other, okay kid?”

El doesn’t really answer but follows him back to the ambulance. She looks like she’s been through absolute hell. He’s seen that sort of exhaustion on her face once before after closing the gate the first time. That night he carried her out to the car, and she slept for 18 hours straight. This time, she looks just a little bit worse for the wear if that was even possible. He’s certain he hasn’t even heard the half of what’s she’s been through yet.

El reluctantly leaves his arms to sit down on the sheet covered gurney inside one of the ambulances. Hop and Joyce sit on a bench next to her while they change her dressings. When they sit down, Joyce sits close enough that her leg presses up against his.

“Are you alright?” Hop asks her.

She tips her head just a bit and pulls her eyes together like she’s ready to complain about him worrying over her. But she softens when she’s sees his genuine concern and just nods her head yes instead.

“Good. That’s good.” He lets out another breath and covers her hand with his, a gesture meant to convey just how _fucking_ sorry he is about this…about _all_ of this. She turns her hand over and laces her fingers through his, and finally, her lips curl up just slightly into a smile. Not a famous Joyce Byers smile that reaches her eyes but it’s something.

He can tell El doesn’t want to sit for another round of bandaging, but she’s too tired to truly fight. She gets rebandaged, and then Hop’s forehead and lip get stitched up too.

The rest of the night moves in a sort of blur between trying to do his job and trying to be there for those he cares about. But after a bit of questioning, everyone is released for the night, including Hopper. Leaving a major scene like this is a bit hard for him, but Owens insists he go home to take care of himself and his family, warning that once the adrenaline wears off, he’s going to be feeling every one of those blows he took down there.

Hopper isn’t too concerned about any of that, but it doesn’t take more than one look at El who’s practically falling asleep sitting up to decide that Owens is right. At the least, he needs to get her home.

After everything, Owens is one man that Hopper actually trusts. Jim accepts the all the keys to the temporary government issued vehicles they offer him. He hands a pair to Joyce and a pair to Nancy in hopes of getting all the other kids safely home, or at least snuck into the Wheeler’s basement for the rest of the night.

Joyce collects Jonathan and Will, and El tells Mike goodbye without any fight at all, which is new and surprising, but he’s not going to complain.

They head to their cars, and Hop gets El settled in one while Joyce lingers beside him.

“You’re going home? I mean, you guys are more than welcome to stay with us if you need to,” she clarifies.

“Oh, uh, no. No thanks. We’ll be alright,” Hopper quickly excuses.

“Are you sure? Didn’t the kids say the cabin was pretty destroyed?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know. Sounds like it’s still standing,” he shrugs.

“Hop…it’s really no big deal if you need to stay with us for a little while,” she practically insists.

Hopper shrugs again. “Probably not as bad as they remember it being.” After these past few days, Joyce deserves some peace and quiet away from him.

“Okay…” she relents, having no energy left to argue anymore. “But if you need anything, you know where to find us.”

“Thanks Joyce,” Hop nods sincerely in appreciation.

“I mean it, Jim,” she tells him sternly.

“I know,” he agrees, as their eyes have a silent conversation with each other. “Get some rest Joyce.”

And then Hop and El are alone in their car on their way home. El is awake only long enough to make sure that Hopper is in the vehicle with her. When he glances at her again as they pull out of the parking lot, her eyes are already closed.

Hopper starts to worry that maybe the kids weren’t exaggerating the destruction when he pulls up the makeshift path back to the cabin and immediately notices they are missing a few large trees along the sides of the path.

He parks the car at the front porch and carries El inside.

The second he steps in, he’s greeted with a mess. There are huge holes in the roof and the walls. There’s wood and furniture strewn about, most of it already wet from the earlier rain.

Hopper kicks some debris away and makes his way to El’s room, which is surprisingly intact enough for him to lay her down. When he comes back out and looks around, he realizes they truly can’t stay there with it in this shape. He sighs and runs a hand across his forehead. His own exhaustion is setting in now too, but he knows he can’t sit down just yet or else he may not get up

First, he needs to at least make sure El is taken care of. He moves to the bathroom to get her a few pain pills and pours her a glass of water.

Hopper returns to her bedroom and wakes her enough to coax her into taking two pills before taking a small handful himself. He grabs a clean change of clothes for himself from his own room and heads to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels nice against his sore muscles, but he knows he can’t get too relaxed just yet, so he vows to make it quick. When he steps out and looks in the mirror, Hopper thinks he might actually look a little bit better than he had a few minutes ago.

He collects an overnight bag from under his bed and fills it with a few of his own belongings before coming back to El’s room. She’s curled up on top of her bed right where he left her. Hopper gently shakes her shoulder, but she only whines a little, not even opening her eyes.

He packs a few changes of comfortable clothes for her from her dresser instead and grabs one of the oversized t-shirts that she wears to bed from her pajama drawer.

El obviously didn’t care if she slept in her clothes, and normally Hopper wouldn’t care either, but her pants are ripped and bloody, and surely uncomfortable on her injured leg. Just taking a shower seemed to renew his own energy, so maybe she might feel a little better in clean clothes.

“El,” Hopper calls shaking her shoulder a littler harder. “I need you to wake up so we can change your clothes into some pajamas.”

El tries to turn away from him. “Tired,” she whines.

“I know but it’s just going to take a minute,” he promises, unclipping her suspenders. “C’mon kid." He lifts her up to a sitting position and holds her shirt closed while he unbuttons the front for her. “El,” he urges once more rubbing her arms up and down. “I need you to open your eyes for a minute.”

It takes a second, but she finally complies. Her tired eyes and the frown on her face pain him in ways he hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Here, kid,” he explains softly, putting her pajamas in her hands. “We are going to stay at Joyce’s house for tonight, so I need you to get dressed.”

Her shoulders are slumped forward, and her eyelids are too heavy to keep open, but she nods.

“I packed a few things. Is there anything you want to bring with?”

She’s already pulling her shirt off. “Pillow,” she murmurs.

Her request makes him smile. He fully understands that kind of exhaustion where you want nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“Blanket,” she adds.

Hop grabs her pillow off her bed behind her. “I’m just going to go set these in the car. I’ll be right back,” he promises, leaving her to finish changing. When he comes back, El is sitting up with her eyes closed again. She successfully changed her shirt, but that’s all. Hopper unbuttons her pants and helps her stand up enough to get them off before pulling her t-shirt back down to cover her thighs.

Just that little bit of effort is almost too overwhelming for her. El lets out a shaky sigh and complains one more time, “I’m so tired.”

She sounds absolutely defeated and for a moment, he feels like the worst dad in the world. But their house really isn’t the safest place right now and they could be at the Byers’ in 10 minutes.

“I know kid, I know.” Hopper looks down and notices that El is barely putting any weight on her injured leg. “You can sleep in the car. Got your pillow and a blanket in there already,” Hopper promises, picking her up.

As he’s carrying her to the car, El says quietly, “She was going to take care of me.”

“What?”

“Joyce. When you were gone,” El explains. “She said I was going to stay with her.”

Hopper sits her down in the passenger seat.

“Joyce is pretty great, huh,” he says, tucking the blanket around her. “It’s sort of too bad you are actually still stuck with me,” he jokes for El’s benefit.

Hopper closes her door and walks around the car to the driver’s side thinking about how Joyce offered to take over caring for El without so much as a second thought. Hopper knows he shouldn’t be surprised, but it’s all too much for him to think about right now.

El snuggles up in her blanket even though the temperature is still in the 70s. “How long are we staying there?”

“Just a few days until I can get the walls and roof covered up.”

“It will be like having a whole family,” El says, her voice soft and as happy as it could possibly sound right now. Though he already thinks of just the two of them as a whole family, he understands what she means, and he wishes it was something he could actually give her. The kid deserves the world.

Still, Hopper feels like he needs to correct her; he doesn’t want her misunderstanding the arrangement as this is just a temporary place to stay and nothing more. They would be there only a couple days at the most.

But when he sees the small smile on her tired face, he can’t bring himself to tell her any of that. El’s eyes blink closed and he wonders if she’s even conscious enough to hear him. 

“Yeah, but if you thought living with one boy was bad, wait until you have to share a bathroom with three,” he teases quietly anyway.

She giggles sleepily. “But…” El pauses and takes a big breath as if she is trying to wake herself back up enough to finish her thought. “I think I’ll like having a dad _and_ a mom. Even if it’s only for a little while,” she adds with a whisper, as if she’s reading his mind. And with that thought, El falls fast asleep.

Hopper suddenly hopes he’s not putting too much on Joyce, especially after how he’s treated her these past few days. She probably only offered her house to be nice, not because she actually thought he would take her up on the offer. And there was always his trailer, but that was devoid of all furniture since he moved his bed and other furniture permanently out to the cabin.

Hopper sighs, the doubt suddenly making his own exhaustion seem just a tad overwhelming too, and the rest of the ride is spent in silence.


	2. Goodnight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce and Hopper have a discussion before bed.

It’s been close to an hour since they all left each other at the mall. Hopper considers the fact that Joyce might already be sleeping by now, though he knows where she keeps her spare key just in case of emergency. However, when he pulls up the drive, there are still a few lights on inside.

Hopper gets out of the car and walks around to wake El up.

“We’re here, kid,” he says, expecting the interior car lights to wake her up a little, but she doesn’t move. He rearranges the blanket and tucks it in around her to pick her up. By the time he turns around, Joyce is standing at the front door.

“Oh, hey,” Hopper says, pausing at the car. He shifts El a little in his arms and she nuzzles her head against his neck, but otherwise doesn’t wake up.

“Hey,” Joyce replies quietly with a smile, nodding for him to come in.

“There was a little more damage than I anticipated. I hope this is still okay.” His voice is cautious, and he doesn’t move from where he’s standing in the driveway.

“Of course. Let me help you.” Before he can tell her no, she’s off the porch and grabbing El’s pillow and their bag from the car even though she looks freshly showered and barefoot, and it’s still lightly raining.

Hopper follows Joyce inside and lets out an undetected, relieved breath. He really doesn’t deserve Joyce in his life, and he knows it. He doesn’t deserve her kindness when he’s been nothing but a complete asshole to her for the past few days. He knows what losing Bob did to her, and the guilt she still feels over it. Of all people, he should understand why she’s hesitant to get into another relationship. Especially with him.

And this whole time Joyce has only been concerned about their kids, and for good reason. Yet, he still let some ridiculous, unfounded jealousy take over and had a complete meltdown for days like a damn toddler.

Or what did Murray call him?

 _A big man-baby_.

How is Murray always somehow right about everything?

Hopper needs to apologize to Joyce, and soon. But how do you excuse that sort of behavior, not to mention the other thing, the whole sort of _dying_ part.

“Why don’t you go lay her down in my bed?” Joyce suggests, interrupting his thoughts.

“Oh, no. No, the couch is fine.” He knows Joyce is about to disagree, so he continues. “I don’t think it really matters where she is. Kid’s so exhausted I’m sure she could sleep anywhere.”

Hopper lays her down on the couch, and El lets out a little whimper.

“Oh honey. Here,” Joyce says, adding El’s pillow on top of the couch cushion under her head. El opens her eyes when she hears Joyce’s voice.

“Hop?” she panics, suddenly trying to sit up.

“What is it?” He moves closer and kneels down next to the couch, brushing the hair from her forehead.

El immediately relaxes and lays back down closing her eyes when she hears him. She doesn’t actually ask a question but instead sighs and leans into his touch.

Joyce moves across the room to turn the lamp off. In the few seconds that it takes, El is already back to sleep.

Hopper, who’s sitting on the floor next to the couch, looks as equally exhausted as El. Joyce puts a hand on his shoulder and he stands up, following her to the kitchen table as if this were any other night. It’s a familiar routine, but somehow seems different tonight.

“Your kids asleep too?” Hopper asks taking a seat at the table.

Joyce nods and steps over to the counter where an open bag of bread and a jar of peanut butter and jelly sit on the counter.

“Will was barely able to keep his eyes open long enough to eat something.”

Hopper suddenly feels bad that he didn’t attempt to feed El something too, though she was barely able to swallow a sip of water and probably wouldn’t have been able to stay awake long enough to eat anyway.

“Are you hungry?” she asks already pulling four slices of bread out of the bag.

“Yeah,” he sighs, trying to remember the last time either of them actually ate. It must have been well over 12 hours ago in the car on the way back to Hawkins.

No longer having to worry as much about El since she’s asleep in the other room, he realizes that he’s actually way past hungry, and maybe that’s part of the obnoxious headache that’s been steadily creeping in over the past few hours. Or maybe the headache is just the aftermath of getting his ass kicked not too long ago.

“Too old for a pb and j?” Joyce turns around to ask.

“Is that possible?”

Joyce smiles in agreement and continues making their sandwiches. “So the cabin is in pretty bad shape?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I mean, I guess it could be worse. But there’s some pretty major damage to the roof and walls. It just didn’t feel safe keeping El there, especially if it storms. But it shouldn’t take too long to get it patched back together.”

“Well you guys are welcome here as long as it takes,” Joyce reminds him. She brings back two plates and sits down across from him. He thanks her and catches how gingerly she moves when she sits, but he doesn’t mention it. He knows how Joyce hates being fussed over.

“Oh, I forgot to get us something to drink.” She pushes her chair back to get up.

“I got it,” Hopper offers, putting his hand up to stop her. Joyce catches how he walks right over the cupboard that holds the glasses without having to ask. They’ve spent enough time sitting right here at this table together for him to know by now.

“We don’t really have much to drink. I’ll need to go grocery shopping tomorrow so the kids will have something to eat.”

Hopper fills up both glasses with water and brings them back to the table.

“We could probably use some real hydration anyway,” he tells her.

Joyce agrees and they eat together in silence, though there’s something else Hop knows he needs to bring up now before it gets too late and even more awkward than he’s already going to make it.

“So uhm.” He takes a drink and clears his throat. “El mentioned that earlier tonight after…everything...” He didn’t know how else to phrase it. “You said that you were going to take her home, to uh, you know, stay with you guys?”

“Absolutely,” she responds in an almost whisper.

“You would really do that?”

“In a heartbeat, Jim.”

Joyce’s hand finds his on the table, and he looks up at her. He’s left wishing he wouldn’t have.

Sometimes he feels so much for her that it hurts. It hurts because he knows no matter how hard he may try to get everything just right, it will always go wrong. It’s just part of the Jim Hopper curse.

He nods and lets out a breath. Hopper looks back into the living room where El is sleeping because he can’t bear to hold eye contact with Joyce any longer.

“Thank you. To know that she’s taken care of if anything ever happens to me…just, thank you.” He swallows hard and Joyce squeezes his hand lightly. She can sense that it’s difficult for him to talk about this.

“You know,” she begins after a few quiet moments. “Before I had kids, I never knew it could be like this.” She shakes her head softly when she speaks. “I never knew I could love someone so much. That I would give _anything_ to keep them safe. Or that it would hurt so bad and make you feel so…helpless… when you can’t. And how absolutely terrifying that is, to do everything in your power to protect them, but to know that it’s ultimately out of your control.”

He knows exactly how she feels.

“When I lost Sara, I never thought I would feel any sort of love like that again. Didn’t think it was even possible.” Those words just slip out. He doesn’t bring Sara up often because everything surrounding that time of his life, and hell, the years after too, are still very difficult to talk about, though El has been slowly healing him without even trying.

“I guess life can still throw us some happy surprises,” Joyce says after a few moments.

Hopper senses that maybe she’s talking about more than just the kids now, and he tries to carefully plan out the words to apologize to her for putting her through the past few days _._ But Joyce suddenly stands up from the table and collects their plates taking them over to the sink. Though her back is turned to him, he catches that her hand brushes her cheek, and she pushes her still damp hair back behind her ear.

Even dressed only in pajamas, she looks so natural and beautiful when she turns back around that he has to turn his attention to the glass of water in front of him. Here he was worried about El getting attached or thinking that this means something more than what it is, and now 20 minutes in, he’s practically a puddle at Joyce’s feet.

“We should probably get to bed too,” she suggests.

Hopper sucks down the rest of the water in his glass.

"Uh yeah. Yeah,” he agrees with a nod and an audible exhale. He stands up and starts to walk to the living room.

“Jim.” She says his name almost a little urgently and he turns around. “You are not sleeping on the living room floor.”

“Actually, I was probably going to take the chair…” he starts to say, but one glance at her tells him to stop talking.

“My bed can easily fit both of us.” He turns to continue to the living room not exactly sure how to decline the offer. Not because he doesn’t want to, but sharing a bed, even if it’s just for sleeping, feels just a little too intimate. Her hand catches his arm, gripping him just a little tighter than he expects, and she says, “Please. I’m really too tired to argue with you.”

Her eyes are pleading with him, and he really doesn’t have the energy to fight with her either. And honestly, a bed sounds amazing. They would be asleep in minutes. Surely, he can handle being close to Joyce for a few minutes until they both fall asleep.

“I’m just going to check on El first.”

“Okay.” Joyce gives him an understanding smile and turns the kitchen lights off. 

Hopper ensures that the front door is locked and stops next to the couch sinking down on the floor next to her. She hasn’t moved at all since earlier, but she looks so relaxed and peaceful with her arm draped across the pillow next to her head. He hopes she won’t be in too much pain once the medication inevitably wears off throughout the night. Hopper presses a kiss to her head and finds himself holding back tears for what must be the hundredth time tonight. It’s just the extreme exhaustion, he tells himself, but it takes a minute for him to get it together enough to go down the hallway.

He pauses at Joyce’s open doorway. She’s sitting on the opposite side of the bed, one arm wrapped around her abdomen and her fingers clutched over her ribs.

“Did you take something for pain?” Hopper worries, the words coming out before he can think to stop them.

“Oh,” she sits up a little straighter and drops her arm, surprised to hear that he’s so close. “Um, yeah,” she quickly dismisses. “What about you? Do you need something?”

“No, I’m good too,” he sighs, sitting down on the other side of the bed. He wants to tell her that it’s okay if she’s hurting, that she doesn’t have to hide anything from him, ever. But what a hypocrite he would be, so he says nothing.

She reaches to turn off the lamp next to her bed, and then the room is dark. At least the dark alleviates a little pressure to try to keep their emotions in check.

Hopper pulls the blanket back on his side of the bed and lays down. It’s quiet except for the shifting blankets while Joyce climbs in next to him.

He doesn’t know that she’s fighting back tears of her own.

Just a few hours ago, she thought she was going to have to live the rest of her life without him because of _her._ Of course Hopper would deny that any of this was her fault, but it was ultimately her choice to close the gate. Her choice to end his life.

And at the very least, she should have told him how much he meant to her, no matter how hard it was for her to think about, no matter how hard it was to say it out loud.

Jim Hopper deserved to know.

Before it all happened, she had so many chances where she easily could have said something. She could have told him that he’s more than just a good friend, more than just a person who understands what she’s been through.

Besides her children, he’s all she has.

Those long overdue words feel like a weight crushing her. But she feels like she might totally lose control at any second if she tries to tell him right now, and Hopper has enough to deal with without piling her trauma on top of him tonight too.

And, by some miracle, she has a second chance. They have time. He’s here within arm’s reach. Close enough to feel the heat from his body.

“Hey, um,” Hopper begins and Joyce swallows hard, knowing he’s going to expect some sort of response that she’s not prepared to give right now, and honestly, Hopper isn’t too prepared either.

Maybe it’s the extreme exhaustion or maybe it’s the head injuries, but the lines they’ve previously drawn feel too blurred and messy laying in bed in the dark to know what’s appropriate anymore. He just knows he has to say _something_ before the night is over.

“I just wanted to tell you…I’m really sorry for the past couple of days. I know I’ve been a pain in the ass. I, um, I don’t have any excuses. I’m just sorry.”

Joyce lets out a little laugh that surprises him.

"You don’t have to apologize for anything Hop.” He swears he hears her sniffle. Her voice is so soft and gentle, and he can’t see her well in the dark, but he hopes she’s not crying.

“No, I do.” He let’s out another sigh. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me lately. I guess I heard that you were moving and, well..” He pauses. “I know I haven’t exactly conveyed it very well, but if you couldn’t tell, for selfish reasons, I really don’t want you to go.”

“It was stupid. I don’t know what I was thinking anyway.” Her voice hitches and now he knows she’s definitely crying.

“You were thinking that you want to finally feel safe someplace. That you want your kids to feel safe. To have a normal life. It’s not stupid,” he promises.

She doesn’t say anything for a minute, and he doesn’t either. He doesn’t want to upset her any further.

“Can I tell you something?” she finally asks.

“Of course,” he whispers.

“I kind of don’t want to be anywhere that you’re not.” She almost instantly regrets that she’s said something like that out loud, so she adds, “I hope I’m not out of line telling you that. It’s just, after everything earlier tonight, things were sort of put into perspective.”

“No, it’s…that’s good.” He’s at a loss for more appropriate words. “Sorry about that too, by the way. I hate that you had to be the one to...” He trails off.

Joyce will never forget what their almost last moments together were like. The way he smiled at her and nodded as if to tell her that it was _okay,_ that he didn’t want her to feel an ounce of guilt for what was about to happen. 

“It’s fine,” Joyce whispers even quieter. She's too tired to appropriately process much right now. “But please, can we not do that ever again?”

“I promise I’ll do my best.”

“Okay. Thanks,” she nods and wipes her cheeks.

They both let out a little laugh at how awkward and overly complicated they seem to make things when it doesn’t have to be. Being vulnerable is not an easy thing for either of them. Most of the time, they can’t afford to be that way as there are kids that need them to be strong. But they are both learning that maybe sometimes, it’s okay.

Joyce settles in a little closer to Hopper, not exactly touching him, though her leg brushes against his, and he can feel the wet ends of her hair tickling his arm.

A mutual weight is lifted, and the relief seems to dull the physical pains that otherwise would have kept them awake. The sounds of gentle rain sprinkling outside the open bedroom window add a relaxing ambience that soon sends them both to sleep without another word.


	3. Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Joyce wakes up early in the morning to a startling sound.  
> TW: panic attacks  
> (PS This story WILL get back to family fluff at some point soon, I promise)

There’s a loud bang. It rattles the house and startles Joyce up and out of bed. In her panic, she runs to the living room past her own kids to check on El, the most exposed of them all sleeping by herself right near the front door. Joyce’s heart is beating so hard it feels like it might come out of her chest. Her feet are tingly and numb from the rush of adrenaline. Her eyes scan the room, but front door is still closed and locked, and El is sound asleep on the couch. The house is darker than it should be for 6 am, but she can still manage to see okay. She instinctively goes back down the hallway and peeks in both of her boys’ bedrooms, but they are asleep and safe in bed too.

Everything is as it should be.

There is no intruder.

No danger.

Then another crash and lightning illuminates the hallway; it’s only a thunderstorm. _A fucking thunderstorm._

Joyce leans back against the wall in the hallway trying to calm herself down, but the more she tries to catch her breath, the less in control she feels. She has her eyes pinched closed, and her chest falls up and down gasping for enough air. In another second, tunnel vision hits her and threatens to totally take her down.

Thank God for the two hands that suddenly grip her shoulders. 

“Joyce? Hey… Joyce. What’s wrong? What happened?”

Hopper’s voice sounds distant even though he’s right in front of her. The storm had woke him up too, and he was concerned when he found the bed next to him empty.

Her hands reach out for him and her fingers grip the sides of his shirt, which actually relieves Hopper a little. Though he has no idea why she’s hyperventilating in the hallway, at least she knows he’s there with her.

“Joyce, I need you to listen to me okay? You’ve got to try to take some slower breaths.” _Or else you’re going to pass out_ , he would add but he doesn’t want to scare her even more. “Breathe in…and out…” he attempts to coach her. It’s worked before, but either Joyce can’t comprehend his words, or it feels physically impossible for her breathe with him like that right now.

Hopper feels a bit helpless, but he can’t stand by and do nothing while she’s panicking this way. Instead of trying to talk her through it, he wraps his arms around her pulling her against him in a tight hug. He’s learned that sometimes this works, at least it has with El when she used to wake up inconsolable in the middle of the night.

He consciously moves his chest in and out with each of his own deliberately slow breaths. He tries to gauge whether it’s working to soothe her and not suffocating her even more. Though it feels like it’s been hours, it takes only a few minutes before he eventually feels her arms move to consciously wrap around his back. He drops his head down to the top of hers and moves one arm up to gently stroke her hair.

Though her breaths are still sharp and uneven, Joyce finally starts to feel like she’s getting enough oxygen. Instead of the whooshing sound of the blood rushing behind her ears, she can actually hear Hopper’s slow and steady heartbeat under her ear. It pulls her back to the present enough that she can focus on the calming rise and fall of his chest.

She reminds herself that Hopper’s here with her. She’s safe…the kids are safe…any perceived terror is irrational. 

It’s been months since a panic attack has taken her down like this, but all things considered, she’s not surprised that they’ve already reappeared to this intensity so suddenly.

She pulls back from him and even the dark, she can see the wet stain of her tears on his shirt.

“I’m- sorry,” she apologizes in two shaky breaths, though Hopper is totally unconcerned about that. He wraps his arm around her and gently directs her back to her bedroom, helping her sit down on the end of the bed. He sits down next to her, his hand resting on her thigh until she’s breathing relatively normally again.

Hopper doesn’t turn this into a big deal or immediately ask her to talk about it. Joyce isn’t sure because they’ve never really talked about anything like this before, but it seems like he has a personal understanding of what’s happened that can only come from experience.

Outside, there’s a constant barrage of lightning that’s continually lighting up the bedroom. It’s followed by a sharp crack of thunder that sounds like it’s right over the house.

“Gunshots,” Joyce whispers in explanation. “I woke up… and thought…I thought I heard gunshots...” She shakes her head because it seems like a dumb thing to induce a panic attack over.

It suddenly dawns on Hopper the sheer amount of ear piercing gunfire Joyce has endured over the past few days. It wasn’t anything he hasn’t heard before, but of course for most other people, that would probably be at least a little bit traumatic. He moves to the open bedroom window and closes it, hoping to stifle some of the sound.

When he turns around, he notices how Joyce is sitting slightly bent over, her hand babying her injured side.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” Hopper tells her.

“Yeah,” she nods, letting out a slightly painful groan after he leaves the room.

Hopper comes back with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin. He pours a few in his hand and offers them to her.

“Thanks. Hurts like hell,” she mutters honestly.

“I bet,” he nods. Hopper’s unfortunately had broken ribs before as well and knows how even regular breathing hurts, let alone what it must feel like after the rapid and sharp breaths that come along with a panic attack. “You up for some ice on it?”

“I’m sure it’ll be better in a minute,” she shakes her head.

“Might numb it long enough for the drugs to kick in,” he suggests anyway.

“Okay, yeah. I guess,” she sighs.

Hopper leaves the room and downs a couple pills himself for his throbbing headache. He raids Joyce’s freezer and returns with a bag of frozen corn wrapped in a dish towel.

“It’s still pretty earlier. Should try to sleep a little longer if you can,” he gently suggests, taking her hand to help her over to the side of the bed to lay down. He helps her lay down on her left side so that her injured side is up. He sits down on the bed behind her. “Can I see it real quick?”

Normally Joyce would not let anyone worry over her like this, but it feels different with Hopper. Or maybe she’s just too tired and emotionally spent to care. Plus, the bedroom is decently dark, so she thinks he probably won’t see much anyway. She moves her arm to lift up the side of her shirt.

“Shit, Joyce,” he says softly when he sees the darkened, bruised skin even in the dim light.

“I’m sure you look a hundred times worse,” she excuses, looking away back towards the wall.

“But I was asking for it,” he laughs softly. His fingers graze her skin as he pulls her shirt back down and goosebumps raise on her arms.

Hopper adjusts the cloth covered frozen vegetables over the injured area, trying to be sure not to put too much pressure on her. He sees that she’s struggling to keep it in place, so he lays down behind her and wraps his arm over her to hold it for her instead.

“This okay?” he asks softly hoping not to overstep his boundaries. He knows how exposed and vulnerable you can feel after panic attack like just she had, but it seems like she might benefit from being close to someone.

“Yeah,” she whispers so quietly that he almost doesn’t hear her. Joyce lets out a large shaky exhale and scoots back towards his body slightly, leaning into him. “I’m surprised the kids haven’t woke up,” she comments softly after a particularly loud rumble of thunder.

“Me too. Bad storms used to make El pretty upset. I guess she does seem a little better about them this summer though,” he adds when he realizes that she hasn’t crept into his bed in the middle of the night at all this summer.

“They’re probably just so tired,” Joyce excuses.

“Uh-huh,” Hop agrees.

It takes some time but eventually the ice does help and so do the pain meds. However, Joyce isn’t too blind to recognize that the most beneficial thing is actually just Hop’s calming presence next to her.

Hours ago, she thought he was dead, and now she’s laying here in bed with him. It almost seems unbelievable.

Aside from the storm, which sounds like it’s finally moving away, the two stay in a comfortable silence until after 7 am. Hopper notices how her breathing has slowed down, and he lifts his head to confirm that she’s sleeping. He tries to move the no longer frozen corn from her now damp shirt, but he inadvertently startles her awake.

Joyce doesn’t really even open her eyes for more than a second, but she grabs his arm and pulls it back around her, leaning back against his chest. She tucks her feet under his knee, and he holds her just a little bit tighter until he eventually falls to sleep too.


	4. Friday, July 5th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after

El wakes up feeling way too hot. She stretches out her legs, emitting a little whine as she does so and kicks the blankets off to free her legs. She tugs at her sticky shirt, collects her damp hair off her neck, and tries to roll over in search of a cooler place, instead almost rolling off the couch. Her eyes snap open in surprise.

 _Oh yeah_ , she’s not at home in her own bed. The house is quiet aside from water running in the shower. It’s daylight outside and way too warm inside; it must be late morning.

She slowly sits up and scans the room for Hopper, but he’s not there. El puts her feet on the floor and tests out how well her leg is functioning. It’s throbbing and burning all at the same time but her desire to find Hopper wins out. She stands up, slowly making her way over to the window.

There are two identical cars outside. She can’t remember what the car that her and Hopper rode in looks like, but it had to be one of those. She presumes he must be in the shower, so she slowly and carefully walks towards the bathroom door and leans against the wall in the hallway to wait for him. After a few long minutes, the water shuts off and the door opens.

Jonathan walks out with only a towel wrapped around his waist and practically runs into El.

“El?” he gasps in surprise. “Hey, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

She nods her head yes, but her expression seems confused.

“Oh okay, good. But uh, does Hopper know you are here?”

El nods her head yes one more time. “Do you know where he is?” she asks.

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen him. When did you guys get here?”

She doesn’t know the answer to that, so she shrugs. “I slept on the couch. But I don’t know where Hopper is,” El barely manages to explain. Jonathan can tell that she’s trying to keep her voice steady, but there’s an evident waver of concern.

“Maybe he just had to go out for a few minutes.”

“I think his car is still here,” she explains.

Jonathan moves to the living room and looks out the window to see that she’s right. And the kitchen and living room are both empty.

“Maybe he’s, um…in my mom’s room?” He really doesn’t believe that Hopper and his mom would be in her bedroom together, but he goes down the hallway to check anyway because El looks like she is starting to get a little upset. She follows quietly behind him even though it’s painful to walk.

At the end of the hallway, Joyce’s door is already cracked open. Jonathan pushes it back a little further, just enough to peek inside without letting too much light in. He really didn’t want to wake his mom up, though he already knows if they can’t locate Hopper, they will have to wake her up anyway.

But to Jonathan’s surprise, there are two figures in the bed. Joyce is actually a little hard to see over Hop’s body because she’s on the opposite side from the door, and she’s pressed right up against him. Even though Hopper is fully clothed, it feels strange to see his mom in such an intimate position with another person.

“He’s here, but uh, he’s still asleep,” Jonathan explains to El in a whisper. She looks near tears, so he pushes the door open enough for her to see inside too. “Did you want me to wake him up?”

El lets out a relieved sigh when she sees him and shakes her head no. The actual act of Joyce and Hopper sharing a bed doesn’t seem to really surprise El like it did Jonathan. He quietly closes the door to just a crack so that they don’t accidentally wake up their parents.

“I’m just going to get dressed. I’ll be back in a minute,” he tells El, pointing to his bedroom.

El nods and heads back down the hallway and into the bathroom. When she finishes, her leg is throbbing even worse than it was a few moments ago. Bad enough that she stays in the bathroom for a few minutes before she works up the will to walk the short bit to get back to the couch.

Finally, she gathers the courage and makes her way back to the couch. She lays down, propping her leg up on the end of couch. She hears Jonathan moving around the kitchen and she feels a little obligated to get up, but she’s too tired. Instead, after a few minutes, Jonathan approaches the couch.

“Are you hungry?” he questions.

She shakes her head no, but asks, “Does it hurt?”

“What?” The question was totally unexpected.

“Your back,” El clarifies propping herself up on her elbow.

 _Oh._ Until the shower this morning, Jonathan hadn’t realized just how bruised he was from the struggle at the hospital, but of course El saw it when he was walking around half-naked.

“No, not really. I’m sure it looks worse than it feels,” he tells her honestly. He didn’t want El worrying about him when she’s got a gash in her leg so large that he practically saw her bone. 

“How about you?” He walks around and sits down on the edge of the end table in front of the couch. “I can’t imagine that feels too great,” he says motioning to the leg she has propped up.

El shrugs but doesn’t elaborate any further.

“Do you need anything? Like a drink or something?” he asks.

“I’m okay,” she promises softly.

“Okay, well if you get hungry or anything, I’ll be in the kitchen. Just call for me and I can bring you something.”

El nods, and she looks like she desperately needs more sleep, so Jonathan decides to leave her alone.

An hour later, Joyce shifts slightly in bed. Hopper had already been drifting in and out of consciousness but came around a bit quicker when he realized that Joyce was awake. She rolls over a little away from him to slip her legs out from the blankets. She lets out a deep breath and leans her shoulders back against his chest. Hop knows he should probably let go of her before things get awkward, but she pulls his arm that’s still wrapped over her a little bit tighter. He’s not sure if she’s aware that he is awake or not, but when he stretches out his legs, she instantly lets up on her grip.

She turns her head back to look at him and moves away from him a little more, disguising it as another stretch.

“Hey,” he tells her quietly.

It’s just one word.

Three simple letters.

But it’s almost too much for Joyce to take in. The softness in his voice makes her heart beat a little too fast, and even worse when she thinks about the night before and how Hopper was there for her without question while she had a complete breakdown.

“Morning,” she finally forces herself to reply. “What time is it?” It’s partly an excuse to sit up to see the clock, but it also feels like they’ve been asleep for days, and somehow, like it still hasn’t been enough.

“Almost noon,” Hop answers, rolling over on to his back.

Joyce is sitting crossed legged next to him, one knee pressed against his hip.

“God,” she sighs after a quiet moment, running a hand through her hair. “I need coffee.”

“Yep. And a smoke,” he agrees with a quiet laugh.

Hop lets out a deep exhale too and pulls the blankets off. He realizes now how warm the bed was. He didn’t normally sleep in so many clothes nor that close to another person.

They sit together in the quiet dark for a few more seconds, both having so much they want to tell each other, yet finding it much harder than it was last night. Even though the blinds are closed and the room still has a dimness to it, the daylight somehow seems to make everything feel so different.

“I can’t tell if the kids are up yet or not,” Joyce says, after listening for a second. She swings her legs over the side of the bed to get up.

“Yeah. Seems quiet,” Hopper agrees.

The two head to her bedroom door, and Hopper almost runs Joyce over when she abruptly stops and turns back around towards him.

“Jim, thank you,” she tells him quickly. “For last night. I’m really sorry about all that.” She had to say _something_ before it was too late.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

Joyce wants to deny it, but she doesn’t want to awkwardly drag things out any further. She looks up at him, and he follows up with a soft, “I mean it.”

“Okay,” she whispers in defeat. Hop flashes her a small smile and she returns with one of her own.

They make their way to the kitchen and Hop glances in the living room. He sees El still laying down on the couch and presumes she’s still asleep.

Hopper sits down at the table and Joyce busies herself starting a pot of much needed coffee. They attempt to remain relatively quiet, not realizing that two of the three kids are already awake. It doesn’t take but a minute for El to join them at the table.

“Hey, kid,” Hopper says, giving her a quick once over. She’s a bit disheveled and looks exhausted.

“Hi,” El answers quietly, sitting down in the chair next to him. Her voice sounds raw from the abuse of the past few days.

“How’re you feeling honey?” Joyce asks from the counter.

El just shrugs and lays her head down on her arms on the table.

“That shitty?” Hop questions.

She shrugs her shoulders again.

Joyce brings two cups of coffee over and places one in front of Hopper. He catches that her knuckles are bruised and swollen.

“The hell happened to your hand?” he asks. How did he miss this before?

“Oh,” she laughs softly, covering it with her left hand. She moves back towards the counter. “I-” Joyce pauses and considers telling him that she has no idea but decides on the truth instead. “…may have punched Larry.”

Hopper lets out a breath of a laugh too. “You what? When?”

“Last night at the carnival. I couldn’t help it.”

El picks her head up. “Who’s Larry?”

Joyce looks to Hopper and he says, “Just some jerk who deserved a good ass kicking.”

El smiles thinking about Joyce beating someone up and lays her head back down.

“Let’s see,” Joyce says, attempting to change the subject. “We don’t have a lot for breakfast, but it looks like we have some Lucky Charms, or I could make you some toast.”

“I’m good with coffee for now,” Hop tells her. He lights a cigarette hoping that at least one of those two things will get rid of the splitting headache he has. “You should eat something though,” he encourages El, patting her back softly.

“Not hungry either.” Her voice is muffled from her arms.

“I know, but you need to eat. Might help you feel a little better,” he suggests, admittedly feeling like a hypocrite. He turns to Joyce anyway. “Maybe start with just one piece of toast.”

She pops a slice of bread in the toaster and mixes a small glass of milk with chocolate powder for El too.

“Here kid,” Hopper urges rubbing her back to wake her up a little bit once the toast is ready. She sits up and lets out an unintentional whine. Hopper pulls the plate towards her. She takes a small bite and a little sip of milk mostly to stop him from worrying over her, even though she feels like she might actually throw up any second. She lays her head back down on the table and closes her eyes.

Her throat is burning and dizziness hits her hard. She stays at the table until her mouth starts watering.

“You okay?” Hopper questions when El abruptly pushes herself back from the table.

“I just have to go to the bathroom,” she manages to excuse before disappearing. She doesn’t want anyone worrying about her when everyone else is just as hurt as she is.

Joyce and Hopper give each other a look but don’t question her further.

In the bathroom, El kneels down in front of the toilet, clutching the cool porcelain in her shaky hands. She sits next to the toilet for a few minutes, but nothing actually comes up, and eventually the intense waves of nausea pass. Her leg is aching so bad, and even though she’s shivering a little, she feels hot and sweaty. El runs cool water in the sink and carefully splashes it over her cheeks, trying hard to avoid the stitches on her forehead.

While El is in the bathroom, Jonathan gets up again and joins his mom and Hopper at the table.

“Hey,” Joyce smiles gently at him. “Hop and El are going to be staying here for a few days while the cabin gets fixed up,” she explains when Jonathan greets Hopper. He doesn’t mention that he already saw him in bed, or more accurately, saw the two of them in bed.

It’s not that he wouldn’t support his mom if she chose to start a relationship with Hopper. In fact, Hopper is pretty much the one guy Jonathan actually trusts. He’s honest, and he’s always been there for them without question. But past experiences with the men in his mom’s life have left him understandably jaded.

He tries not dwell on the seriousness of any of this. Of course, the two would want to be close after the past couple days they’ve had, and especially after last night. It probably wasn’t anything more than two friends comforting each other after a rough night. _Shared trauma,_ he thinks.

El finally reappears from the bathroom. She stands next to Hopper at the table, steadying herself with one hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?” he asks her quietly. El doesn’t answer, but he notices now how pink her cheeks are. He scoots his chair back from the table a little to make room for her, and she sits down on his leg. “Why don’t you try to eat a little more,” he suggests, pulling her plate across the table towards them.

El doesn’t reach for a bite, but instead turns towards him and buries her face against his neck.

He wraps his arms around her, and she curls up tighter against his chest, finally admitting in defeat, “I don’t feel good.”

“I know, kid,” he reassures her with a sigh. Hopper presses a kiss to her forehead and that’s when he notices that she feels a bit too warm. He’s warm too, but this feels like more than just from the weather. He tries not to make a big fuss over it immediately; that’s the last thing El would want. Instead, he holds her while they finish their coffee and even through a phone call to the station to check in and tell them that he most likely won’t be in until Monday due to dealing with the ‘fire’ at the mall all night last night.

When he finishes on the phone, El seems to be nearly asleep against his chest.

“Poor thing,” Joyce comments to him quietly. “Why don’t you go lay her down in my bedroom.”

Hopper nods. “Feels like she’s got a fever. I need to go pick up those antibiotics the doc said to get for her,” he remembers from the night before. It seems a little more urgent to get them now, though he’s trying not to panic over a slight fever.

“I can do that,” Jonathan offers.

“You sure?” Hopper questions.

“Yeah, it’s no problem.”

“There’s cash in my wallet in the top of that bag. I think the keys are somewhere over there too.” Hopper nods to the overnight bag he packed for them that’s still sitting next to the front door. “Pretty sure I put the slip of paper with the prescription somewhere in the center console of the car.”

Last night was a blur, but that was one thing Hopper made sure to keep tabs on, knowing El would most definitely need the medications they recommended.

“You mind picking up some antibiotic ointment and bandages for her leg too?”

“Yeah, of course,” Jonathan nods.

“Thank you,” Hopper replies sincerely before Jonathan heads out.

“Let me grab the thermometer,” Joyce says once Jonathan is gone. She leaves the room and comes back from the bathroom with it in her hand.

“Probably doesn’t really matter,” Hop excuses, if only to calm himself down. “I mean…she needs the antibiotics and some pain meds either way.”

Joyce softly brushes the hair from El’s forehead with her fingertips and presses the back of her hand to El’s skin.

“She does,” she nods in agreement. “But we should probably have some idea of whether it’s getting better or if she needs to go see a doctor.” 

If truth be told, Hopper doesn’t want to know how high her fever is because he absolutely hates it when she’s sick. Probably even more than the kid hates _being_ sick. Selfishly, too many bad memories resurface from another time when fevers meant hospitals, and hospitals meant not knowing if his daughter was going to get to come home again.

And one day, she didn’t. 

But this time, Joyce is right. They need to know how serious of a thing this is. He can’t lose her because of his own stupidity. Hell, he almost did once already yesterday.

“Yeah. Right,” he nods with a sigh, adjusting El a little in his arms to sit her up. “El,” he calls.

She hadn’t been asleep, and she heard their whole conversation about a fever and a _doctor._ She hates that word too and so she opens her eyes and pretends to be fine, though her eyes and the slight frown on her face give away just how bad she’s feeling.

“We just want to take your temperature really quick, sweetie, and then you can go lay down in my bed if you want to, okay?” Joyce tells her.

El nods and places the thermometer under her tongue. Hopper senses her anxiety as she grips and absently rubs the hem of his shirt between her fingers. The three minutes that it takes for it to finish seems to take forever, and she lays her head back down on his shoulder while she waits.

“Oh, honey. I know it feels like a long time,” Joyce sympathizes when she sees just how miserable El looks. “It’s almost finished,” she promises gently rubbing her back.

Hopper knows it shouldn’t surprise him hearing Joyce speak to El in such a soothing, mothering manner, but for some reason, it makes him feel like mush inside. And suddenly he’s remembering how he found El and Joyce sitting together in the back of an ambulance last night, in a very similar position to the one he’s in with the kid right now. He thinks about how Joyce was so willing to care for a child that’s not hers, one that she has no moral obligation to parent, and he gets that all too familiar tight feeling in his throat.

Thank god, the three minutes are up, and Joyce reaches for the thermometer. For now, he’s able to tone down those feelings relatively quickly considering the overwhelming enormity of it all.

Joyce angles it to show Hopper, not stating the number out loud so as not to alarm El.

102.7

“Sick?” El asks anyway.

“Um, yes honey. You have a bit of a fever, but some medicine should make you feel better,” Joyce promises simply.

“Is that why I’m…broken?” El questions.

“What sweetie?” Joyce asks for clarification.

“Why my powers don’t work? I can’t do anything. Last night with Billy, I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t save him. I couldn’t-“ she chokes out a small sob and curls up against Hopper.

“Shh,” he immediately soothes, throwing a worried glance in Joyce’s direction. “It was never your responsibility to save anyone,” he explains. “I know you have. So many times,” he adds. “But it’s not on you, kid.”

“My fault,” El cries anyway.

“No, kid, no. Not your fault. Not a single thing that’s happened is your fault, you hear me?” Hopper promises softly. El doesn’t verbally respond, but she’s crying harder. Hopper sighs, tightening his grip on her, and holds her until her tears slow down when she’s nearing exhaustion.

Eventually he stands up and takes her to Joyce’s room to lay down. He rubs soft circles on her back and sits silently next to her until she falls asleep. Of course once she finally does, Jonathan arrives home with the medicine and some bandaging supplies.

Joyce comes in with a glass of water and a bag from the pharmacy.

“She’s asleep?” Joyce confirms quietly.

“Yeah. But I should probably wake her up for that. I’d hate for her to get worse,” he sighs, nodding to the supplies and medications in her hands.

El wakes up rather easily and is surprisingly compliant when it came to taking the medications and getting her bandage changed. Joyce volunteers to do all the dirty work of gently cleaning El’s wounds, while El curls her face up against Hop’s chest, remaining stoic and keeping her eyes closed the entire time. She keeps hold of Hop’s hand the whole time, only squeezing it a little bit tighter when she feels the burn of the antiseptic.

Once again, Hopper is so thankful to have Joyce around to help with this. Sure, he’s knowledgeable in wound care from his years in Vietnam, but when it’s his daughter with an enormous hole in her leg and not another soldier, it feels a little bit different.

El eventually drifts off back to sleep, and Hopper and Joyce spend the rest of the afternoon meeting with Owens and few other officials around the Byers’ kitchen table.

It’s nearing 6 pm when El comes wandering out from Joyce’s bedroom. She stops in the bathroom first and finds her way to the kitchen where the adults are finishing up. Though Hopper’s been dealing with a hundred other little crises throughout the day, his anxiety over El’s condition continued to remain his top concern, taking breaks to go in and check on her at least 10 times throughout the afternoon.

Joyce, who’s frankly overwhelmed and tired of all the questioning, excuses herself when she sees El and suggests that they men do their best to wrap up any further conversations for the night as well. She directs El to the living room and checks her temperature, which has come down to 99 degrees.

After Hop sees to it that everyone leaves, he joins the kids and Joyce in the living room carefully eyeing his daughter. She’s sitting next to Will quietly conversing. She looks surprisingly brighter than she had earlier, and when Joyce tells him that her fever has come down, he suddenly feels an enormous weight lifted.

“How are you feeling?” Hop asks her anyway.

“Better,” El tells him honestly, even adding a tiny smile when she sees that Hop still looks concerned.

“Good, that’s good,” he nods and smiles back.

“I never did make it to the grocery store today,” Joyce worries, rising from the couch to make her way to the kitchen again. Though they slept through half the day, it’s been long and stressful enough, and Hopper didn’t want Joyce worrying about cooking anything for dinner.

“I can go pick something up. Any suggestions?” he asks the kids.

“A milkshake?” El asks hopefully.

“You want a milkshake for dinner?”

She nods, and Hopper rolls his eyes feigning annoyance, though it’s obvious that he’s wrapped around her finger, and he would give in to almost anything she asked for tonight.

“Isn’t it Friday?” El adds sweetly. There was a period of time when he used to bring home milkshakes and hamburgers almost every Friday night, though admittedly it’s been a little while since they did that tradition.

“A milkshake sounds good,” Will agrees.

“Fiiine. You two can have a milkshakes for dinner. What flavor?” he asks, realizing he already knows El’s answer. “Vanilla with extra whipped cream,” he answers for her before she has to tell him. She smiles and nods.

“Chocolate for me,” Will tells him.

“I’ll pick up some real food too,” Hop promises Joyce. “You want anything in particular?”

She shakes her head no. “Honestly, I’m just starving.” Neither had eaten anything all day. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No, you don’t need to. I’ll be back soon,” he tells her, as he’s putting on his shoes. She deserves some time to relax, though he knows she will probably busy herself worrying about something else while he’s gone. Besides, Hop couldn’t forget something El had just reminded him of and he needed a few minutes to prepare.

Nearly an hour goes by before the Byers’ doorbell rings.

Expecting Hop back any minute, it seems strange that the doorbell would ring, but Joyce figures that it’s probably just one of the kids’ friends coming over unexpectedly. Jonathan answers the door and disappears outside for a moment. He comes back in with a cardboard drink holder filled with milkshakes and a few bags of hamburgers and french fries.

“Dinner’s here,” he announces, carrying the food into the living room to the other two kids.

A few minutes goes by before Joyce begins to wonder where Hopper is. Eventually the doorbell rings again. Joyce looks anxiously to Jonathan who just shrugs his shoulders. She stands up and walks to the front door, briefly peering out the window to see if there was another car in the driveway.

When she opens the door, Hop, who’s looking out at the driveway, turns around and greets her.

“Uh, hey,” he nods with a nervous half smile. It’s immediately apparent to her that he’s not wearing the same clothes he left the house in. It’s a simple look- a pair of jeans and a dark maroon colored button down short sleeved shirt, but he looks so surprisingly attractive that it almost takes her breath away.

“What are you doing? Why are you ringing the doorbell?” Joyce laughs, turning to come back inside because she can’t stare at him for too long looking like this. 

Hopper reaches out and catches her arm.

“Well,” he pauses for a moment. “It’s Friday…7 pm. And I’m here to pick you up.” His eyes briefly meet hers before she looks away.

“Hop,” she says in a near whisper, looking towards the living room to see if any of the kids happen to be overhearing this conversation. “I’m sorry but I am in no shape to go out like this,” she excuses quietly, looking down at her mismatched, unflattering clothing.

“I kind of figured you’d say something like that. Just come here for a second,” he nods to her when she finally looks at him. She glances at the kids once more as if one of them would save her but no one is paying any attention.

She steps out on to the front porch and when she sees what Hopper has done, she tries to resist the sudden, intense urge to cry. He’s rearranged the porch furniture to the right of the front door; there’s a table with a candle and two glasses of wine next to two milkshakes with a side of hamburgers and french fries.

“I mean, I still want to take you on a _real_ date,” Hopper says when Joyce doesn’t say anything. “But um, will you just settle for dinner with me here tonight?”

Joyce can’t speak but she manages a slight nod. Hopper pops his head inside the door.

“Joyce and I are going to eat out here on the front porch if you need us,” he calls to the kids.

“’Kay,” El calls back.

Hopper comes back out and sees that Joyce hasn’t moved from where she’s standing.

“I hope this is okay…” he begins, hoping he hasn’t overstepped any boundaries. Things certainly are a little different now than when Joyce had initially promised him the date last night.

“Yeah, it’s okay. It’s just-“ She can’t get the sentence out before she completely breaks down, burying her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking in silent sobs.

Hopper cautiously approaches her at first. A tentative hand finds her waist, and she nearly collapses against him. His arms tighten around her, and she sinks against his chest. Hopper tucks her head under his and presses a long kiss against the top of her head. He strokes her back tenderly until her tears slow.

Joyce pulls away slightly and looks to him briefly, though she moves back to the solace against his chest where he can’t see how utterly embarrassed she is.

“Oh my god,” she mutters quietly. “I’m really…so sorry. I’m just…so-“ She can’t even find the words to properly describe her emotions over these past 24 hours. 

“Hungry?” he offers with a teasing grin, earning him a small giggle from his arms. “But seriously. You’re just overwhelmed and…exhausted. I get it…” Hop pauses. “Because I am too,” he confesses gently after a moment, hoping she will feel a little better.

“Yeah, but at least you aren’t bursting into tears every couple of hours,” she mumbles.

“Not that you’ve seen,” he admits honestly. Something about the tone of his voice suggests that he’s not just saying that to make her feel better. Joyce takes a breath and finally gathers the courage to leave his arms. Hopper reaches out and softly wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs. “Let’s just sit down and eat, yeah?”

Joyce sniffles and lets out a deep exhale with a nod of her head.

“Yes,” she sighs. She flashes a small smile, a silent thank you for all his patience and understanding.


End file.
